


from a to z

by Jurice



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Minor Bokuaka - Freeform, Office AU, Oneshot, Post-Canon, Third Gym, taste symbolism, uncertainties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 20:39:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12689835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jurice/pseuds/Jurice
Summary: It's not the way Tsukishima's used to taking his coffee, but he thinks he could get used to it someday.OROffice au in which Kuroo is newly employed at where Tsukishima works, and it takes a while for Tsukishima to finally get out of his comfort zone.





	from a to z

**Author's Note:**

  * For [buttercreamfrosting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttercreamfrosting/gifts).



> This is my gift for Shayna/[icecreamwithsprinkles](https://icecreamwithsprinkles.tumblr.com), I hope you enjoy reading it! The prompt was office au, I tried to stick some third gym in there as a subprompt, and . . . it was supposed to be fluff, I swear. Not an angstfest in any way haha. Anyway, this was really fun to write, and yeah! Please someone teach me what plot is. I just ran with the prompt and I'm not sure where the heck I ended up tbh.

i.

The walls of his cubicle are tall, but just because they block out the visuals doesn't mean that Tsukishima can't hear all of what's happening on the other side. It's the new guy, he supposes. It's been at least ten minutes past nearly everyone's lunch break, for the record, but the others at the office are still swarming around said person, fawning over him, and they just _had_ to do it so close to Tsukishima's spot, when there are plenty of other better places to loiter around in.

He'd heard that the office was hiring, but he hadn't thought it'd be so soon. Not that he cares, because it's not like this is his business, not when he's the kind to just toil away at his desk from nine to five, with barely a word to his fellow coworkers. Yamaguchi always tells him that it's not a very good lifestyle, but hey, Tsukishima gets to go home to instant noodles, and that's really all he needs to survive other than an occasional phone call from his brother and periodical check-ins with his probably-best-friend.

He sighs and briefly tries to imagine what the scene currently looks like beyond his cubicle walls. He imagines what Yamaguchi would actually say if he were here.

 _You're being an idiot_ , he'd say.

 _I think not_ , Tsukishima would reply.

 _There's nothing wrong with just talking to people_ , Yamaguchi'd quip back, probably rolling his eyes. 

 _Yeah there is — that requires coming into close contact with human civilization._ Tsukishima would give him a look then. _Unnecessary_. And then the conversation would be over, and Tsukishima would never again have to hear about what wondrous feline characteristics are bestowed upon black cats. 

Because, cats. It's what his coworkers are talking about at the moment. Apparently the new guy keeps one, and it's black. Tsukishima really doesn't want to be listening in, but it's incredibly difficult not to when they're being so loud, and it just so happened to be the day he forgot his noise-cancelling earbuds at home.

It's an effort made in vain. Given, staring blankly at his computer screen isn't really the essence of productivity, so. He's about to take a break and head towards the water dispenser for a drink, but then something catches his attention; it's somebody's laugh, carrying above the rest of the noise for just a fraction of a second.

Upon hearing that, Tsukishima stops halfway from getting up, and then decides that the best decision is to stay at his seat after all. And for no particular reason, really. Except—

He swears he's heard it before. This laugh. It sounds light, relaxed, familiar. It sounds like _him_. And it's bizarre that Tsukishima's being reminded of all this right now, because that was forever ago, and there's plenty of other people in Tokyo, so what are the odds? But all the same, he doesn't get up to grab that cup of water for the rest of the day, and he leaves work quietly when the clock strikes five. 

\------

ii. 

"Tsukki, what are the odds?" he asks Tsukishima the next day. "The universe never ceases to amaze me."

Tsukishima blinks, because he'd already convinced himself yesterday that his gut feeling was wrong. It seems like it hadn't been. Bummer.

"Surprised?" the new guy asks, smiling, although now his voice is a little less certain. And he isn't really the _new guy_ anymore, is he, not when Tsukishima knows this all too well. It's been a while, and some of the details he remembers from all those years ago are slighty off, but there's still technically the whole package presented before him. Cat's grin, relaxed posture, dark eyes. The only real difference from the last time Tsukishima's seen him is probably his hair.

"Perhaps," Tsukishima replies slowly, because he has no idea what he's supposed to say in such a situation. He isn't very good at all this. What do the rules of social conduct dictate people do when they see someone they weren't super close to, after a long time of not keeping in touch?  Are you supposed to tell them that it's great seeing them again? Because it's not. It does feel kind of nice, perhaps, but it's also somehow inexplicably awful. There's an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of Tsukishima's stomach that vouches for that, as well as the dryness in his throat to boot.

"We just don't get new faces around the office very often," Tsukishima finally says. 

"New faces? You don't recognize me?"

"It's your hair," Tsukishima replies, and finally forces himself to accept his fate and put a name to the person. "Kuroo."

His eyes light up upon hearing his name, and he acts like it's his cue to get all talkative. "Dude, that's literally the first thing Bokuto said, too. About my hair, after I had it cut. It's like that was my only defining feature and not my immense generosity and charm. You guys are unbelievable." He laughs, then pauses. "You remember Bokuto, right?"

"Yes, unfortunately," Tsukishima says, even though that's not entirely true. It's not all that unfortunate, but he feels like he has to put up an act. And he also might be reeling from the aftermath of being offered one of Kuroo's laughs again. He doesn't know what to say, and it feels like he's stalling, trying to put off an inevitable conversation more serious than one involving merely the classic long-time-no-see pleasantries. "And Akaashi as well," he decides to tack on, because who could forget that the two came in a pair?

"That's awesome," Kuroo tells him. "I actually keep in touch with both of them still."

"Really? How many years has it been?" Tsukishima asks, not because he's too lazy to do the math in his own head but because he's curious to see how well Kuroo himself remembers it. He also might be wishing to stall Kuroo so he can have some time to think, but.

Kuroo pauses in thought, glancing up at the ceiling for a second. "I guess maybe six years since I graduated high school? If that's what you meant."

"Are they doing well?" Tsukishima asks, and he hopes it doesn't look like he's feigning interest, because he actually is slightly curious.

"Yeah, they're both doing great," Kuroo says, and smiles a little to himself. He motions for Tsukishima to come closer, and acts like he's divulging some sort of secret. "You know, they're actually together right now, since a month ago."

"Together?" Tsukishima says in surprise, because do crushes ever last that long? He kind of knows the answer to that, but still. 

Kuroo evidently thinks he wants clarification, though. "Yeah, like, they're _together_ together. A couple." He grins. "It's great."

"That's nice," Tsukishima says a little doubtfully, wondering how Akaashi is handling. 

"What if"—Kuroo looks away, then back at Tsukishima again—"We should totally go out for coffee with them sometime. Recreate the third gym, yeah?"

"Sure," Tsukishima half-promises, because he's sure that Kuroo doesn't really mean it when he says that. It sounds like the end of the conversation is approaching, just a two-minute catch-up between acquaintances who don't have a lot of catching up to do. Tsukishima stops himself from looking away, or from fidgeting with his hands in his seat, or from looking any bit as disappointed as he feels. It's an odd mixture if feelings, not entirely pleasant by any means. He feels disappointed yet relieved. Apprehensive and maybe just a tad wistful.

"Cool," Kuroo says, and suddenly everything becomes somewhat strained. He lingers in front of Tsukishima's desk a moment longer, not leaning on it anymore, like he's getting ready to leave but isn't sure how to back away politely without it being awkward. It doesn't occur to Tsukishima that he's chickening out, even though it looks exactly like that, like what Tsukishima recognizes in himself at the moment. It couldn't be, though. 

"Well," Tsukishima begins, and he figures if Kuroo won't end it, then it's up to him to do the both of them a favor. "It's nice seeing you again."

"Yeah, same," Kuroo agrees quickly. There's another awkward pause before he opens his mouth to speak again, and Tsukishima can't tell if it's because he just doesn't know what to say or if he's overthinking those two words. But then, Tsukishima's probably the only one overthinking things, like always.

"So," Kuroo says. "I'll leave you to whatever you're doing, then. Talk to you later?"

"Right," Tsukishima says. "See you later."

And that's that. 

\------

iii.

Tsukishima's not sure what Kuroo meant by "later," but he realizes that it probably wasn't synonymous with "later today." Well. Kuroo certainly didn't come visit his cubicle a second time or anything, and it's certainly not like Tsukishima was expecting it, either. 

Maybe he does feel disappointed, though, but that would only be his own fault, as usual. He really should have learned by now not to get his hopes up over things as trivial as this.

\------

iv. 

On Wednesday, Tsukishima finds out that Kuroo's the "good coworker," the kind that's beloved by all because he brings in donuts and coffee for breakfast. Tsukishima actually doesn't know about the donuts in the breakroom until word of mouth reaches him several hours after the fact. Even then, the promise of donuts isn't enough to tempt him out of his seat, so he only checks out what's left of the delivery just as he's getting ready to leave. It could be dinner, after all. Yamaguchi isn't visiting today, so nobody can tell him what's a proper meal or not once he gets home.

On the way, he passes Kuroo, who's in conversation with someone else. More like being instructed by someone else, actually, since he's still learning the ropes. He smiles at Tsukishima, and returns to what he's doing, too fast for Tsukishima to even wave back. Well.

And then Tsukishima's at the breakroom. There's two pink cardboard boxes, one with its lid up and blatantly empty. He lifts up the other box's lid. There's only two donuts left inside, and —

Leaning in closer to take a look, he sees that one has a post-it marked _Tsukishima's_ , with a sloppy doodle of a crow perched atop the T. The crow looks too tall and skinny to be proportionate. 

Tsukishima smiles half to himself, takes the donut, and goes home to lots of quiet contemplation. 

\------

v. 

The filling inside is strawberry jam.

\------

vi. 

"Donuts are good and all," Yamaguchi chides during his impromptu visit. "But they aren't really dinner, okay? Also, how did you even get it? Usually by the time you leave everything's gone."

"Someone saved it for me," Tsukishima tells him, and tries to look in his fridge for some real food that'll appease Yamaguchi enough to leave him alone.

"Oh?" Yamaguchi prompts, with just enough curiosity to make it more of a question than a challenge. "You told me you didn't know people at your job."

"I know people," Tsukishima sighs, getting ready to explain everything yet again. He figured by now Yamaguchi would have understood, and he probably does, but. Just to clarify, because he's feeling petulant. "I just don't _know_ know them. We're acquaintances. You can have acquaintances, and you can have friends. You're my friend. They're my acquaintances."

"Alright," Yamaguchi concedes, with a tone that says he doesn't really agree all that much and wants to have a lifestyle talk with Tsukishima for the hundredth time. He concedes, but only for about half a minute, because something else has caught his interest. "So . . . who was it? This friend who saved you the donut?"

Tsukishima freezes, because maybe he shouldn't have given Yamaguchi the hint. He keeps rummaging around in the fridge, acting distracted, and answers as casually as he can, "You won't believe it. It was Kuroo Tetsurou, from volleyball in high school."

"And?"

"He works at our office now."

Tsukishima's not sure what else he was supposed to elaborate on in response to the simple prompt, but apparently what he said isn't a very sufficient answer, since this time, Yamaguchi takes too long to reply. Tsukishima feels like he's eyeing him kind of thoughtfully but also kind of with disappointment.  "I believe that," Yamaguchi finally says. After a pause, he adds, "Also, you're taking too long. The fridge won't be cold anymore."

"Right," Tsukishima says, and shuts the door, wondering whether Yamaguchi meant what he said about Kuroo saving the donut, or about how Kuroo ended up in the same office as him. Or both. 

Even though it looks like Yamaguchi would want him to, Tsukishima doesn't ask. 

\------ 

vii. 

Just as he's about to open a new document on his screen, Tsukishima gets a tap on his shoulder. He swivels around in his chair to see Kuroo standing in front of him.  

"Listening to music?" Kuroo asks, and points to his ears. His voice sounds muffled, blocked. 

Tsukishima's confused for a moment, before he remembers his earbuds. "Oh, that," he replies, and takes them out. His answer sounds regrettably awkward and stilted.  

"Didn't you use to have headphones all the time in high school, too?" Kuroo continues. "You still listen to the same stuff? I meant to ask you before what kind of music you liked, but. I never had the chance." He smiles ruefully. 

"Uh," Tsukishima starts, and fiddles with the wires, winding them up so they don't get tangled the next time he uses them. "They're not for music. I just use the noise-cancelling function." 

"Oh," Kuroo says, and he sounds surprised about it, instead of disappointed at the rather anticlimactic reveal. 

It's not like it requires further explanation, but still. Tsukishima thinks he should say something, so he does. "It keeps me on task."

"No, I get that," Kuroo assures him. "I don't listen to music while working numbers, either. It messes up my focus." 

The conversation just stops after that, and it's painfully awkward. For once, Tsukishima tries to save it, and then regrets having made the attempt. Horribly. 

"You never told me what happened to your hair," he blurts out. "Or what Bokuto actually said about it."

Kuroo snorts at that, and then laughs. "Geez, all of you talk as if I'm _bald_ now. I just found a way to keep my hair down. Keep the whole image more professional for work."

"How?" Tsukishima asks, after a second's pause, since Kuroo's obviously waiting for it.

There's that trademark grin, and then Kuroo leans in, which is completely unnecessary given that he isn't trying to be secretive at all and talks normally instead of in a whisper. "Trade secret."

It's Tsukishima's turn to snort at that, and he tries to hide his smile by looking down. He's pretty sure that Kuroo can't see it, since he's still standing while Tsukishima himself remains seated. Kuroo is also _tall_ , which is nice. And which also works to Tsukishima's advantage. 

Something runs down Tsukishima's spine, like a spark. 

"By the way," Kuroo says, and Tsukishima looks up again. "I got you a cup of water."

He places it on Tsukishima's desk, reaching over so he can set it close enough for Tsukishima to grab with ease. The motion brings him closer, closer — too close — so Tsukishima backs up his chair, hoping Kuroo won't notice.

"You didn't get one for yourself?" Tsukishima asks, grasping for something to say.

Apparently, Kuroo does notice, but he doesn't move out of the way. If he didn't look so earnest, Tsukishima would've thought that he was doing it on purpose. 

"Well, it was originally mine," Kuroo admits, and his tone holds laughter in it, although it's not outright obvious. 

"Was it?" Tsukishima asks with a raised eyebrow. 

"Well, I realized I needed an excuse to check up on you every once in a while. Can't come empty-handed, you know? So here you go," Kuroo explains, and the whole thing seems to promise more to come.  

"Wow, thanks for the offering," Tsukishima deadpans. 

Kuroo laughs at that. "No problem. Talk to you later then," he says, just like he did before, except this time it's not a question.

"Okay," Tsukishima replies, and thinks he has what _later_ means all figured out now. 

\------

 viii. 

As it turns out, Kuroo stops by Tsukishima's desk a _lot_. Tsukishima figures it's because he's the only one around the office that Kuroo really knows so far, but Kuroo does it so often that even their coworkers begin talking about it. Eventually, they find out that the two of them used to play volleyball together, and. Tsukishima's always tried to stay low-profile about things like that, so it doesn't really help at all when Kuroo is so open and encouraging to coworkers who ask him about what he calls their "close friendship." It seems to them convincing enough, too, since Kuroo still calls him _Tsukki_ every once in a while. 

Either way, Tsukishima finds that he doesn't have the heart to stop him. 

\------ 

ix. 

"So," Kuroo begins. "About the other day."

"Which day. What," Tsukishima says, because he has zero idea what Kuroo is referring to, and it's been quite a lot of days since Kuroo started working at the office, which means that it's also been quite a lot of days since he started talking to him.

"Remember what I said about that thing with Bokuto and Akaashi?" asks Kuroo, and he glances around, as if he's making sure there's no one to eavesdrop on their conversation. 

"Yeah?" Tsukishima kind of freezes, since he thinks he knows where this is going, and he doesn't like it. How could he have forgotten?

"Well, see. I, uh, meant what I said about how we should all meet up sometime, and it just so happens that today I'm having coffee with them later? Since it's Friday and we get off early. Do you want to come? It'd be"—he stops halfway, his proposal reeking of uncertainty—"a nice chance to catch up on things, perhaps?" 

Tsukishima pauses, debating. He kind of doesn't want to, but. "Wouldn't I be an uninvited guest?" he asks. "I don't—"

"No!" Kuroo replies a bit too quickly, like he'd had it rehearsed in his head for a while. "I already talked to them about it, and they're totally cool with you coming. I bet they'd want to see you, too."

Tsukishima blinks at the last part, because he's not so sure. People change. Nobody's a high schooler playing volleyball anymore, and things are complicated now in more ways than one. He doesn't have a good excuse to bail, though, and if Kuroo isn't taking the hint or is choosing to ignore it because he really wants this thing to happen, then there's really nothing to be done, is there. 

So Tsukishima just lets himself be swept up by the flow, except it's one of those rare occasions in his life where he feels personally invested in figuring out where this whole thing is going to take him. He wonders if he has any control over it, if he really does want to go there, and of all the possible complications that could arise from arriving at the finish line. 

"What time?" he asks, and thinks it might be a good idea to stop overthinking things and just start hoping for the best, in the way that Yamaguchi is always telling him to do.

\------ 

x.

"What the heck," Akaashi mutters when he sees Tsukishima. His tone sounds rather bland considering what he's saying and how annoyed he probably is. "Kuroo, I told you this was too early." 

"Give me a break — you can't have me third wheeling you two _all_ the time," Kuroo complains. "I just brought another third wheel, so now it's evened out."

"Right," Akaashi says, unimpressed. "I told you this was a bad idea, but sure. Good job."

It occurs to Tsukishima that maybe Kuroo had been fibbing earlier about him being indeed invited, but then:

Kuroo looks as if he's trying to school his face into something that would match Akaashi's and miserably failing. "What are you looking at me like that for? It's balanced now," he replies, and then groans in frustration.

"Sneaky, sneaky," Bokuto accuses, and Kuroo just laughs it off.

"No, I swear! A car needs four wheels to work," he protests. 

Bokuto has never been very good at hiding anything, much less a smirk. It's just as Tsukishima remembers. "Technically our thing needs two more people to work," he corrects Kuroo.

"Oh, you mean the shrimp and Lev?" Kuroo asks, and then he turns towards Tsukishima. "Hey, do you still keep in touch with Hinata? I have Lev's number, so we should totally recreate third gym, yeah?"

"Yeah, why not?" Tsukishima agrees, albeit reluctantly, because he's not sure how that would turn out. Even though he does, in fact, still talk to Hinata, it's mostly only when Yamaguchi drags him out to do things and be interactive against his will. 

There's a moment's pause, with Kuroo briefly scrolling through his phone, apparently looking for something. For a while, no one says a word, and the spell is only broken when Akaashi hands them both menus and pushes glasses of water from the set of four already on the table towards them. Tsukishima nods his head in silent thanks, wishing that Akaashi wouldn't do that. It's that thing where he kind of eyes Tsukishima too closely, observant and very carefully neutral. That hasn't really changed at all, either. 

"Oh yeah, by the way, do you want Lev's number? I have it right here," Kuroo finally says. "When I told him I saw you at work he kind of whined about how it's been too long. He wants to send you cat videos or something, I don't know."

It takes Tsukishima a second of thinking before he defaults again to "Sure," still feeling like squirming under Akaashi's gaze. 

"This is ridiculous," says Akaashi to Bokuto from across the table, and it's just barely loud enough for Tsukishima to hear from where he is. Discreet, but not discreet enough. On purpose? Tsukishima can't tell. 

"He's offering Lev's number before he offers his own," Akaashi continues. "What is he doing? You'd think he'd be smarter than that."

Bokuto snorts. "You'd think he was trying to set him up with Lev," he laughs back.

Tsukishima pauses, because he hadn't thought of that before, but he certainly is thinking of it now. He's not sure what they're referring to anymore, and it's been a while since he's been so lost in a conversation, although it's more from a desire to not blindly make assumptions than from being in an actual state of confusion. He feels like it's not something he should be asking about though, given the grimace that Kuroo is sending their way. 

Apparently, he'd heard it too. So Tsukishima takes his earlier observations under reevaluation. Discreet? No. On purpose? Yes, probably. Reason? Unknown. Or, at least, it remains yet to be confirmed. 

"You guys are terrible. Thanks for everything," Kuroo says, fondly derogatory in a way that makes Tsukishima miss the times he used to do that to people, too.

"No problem," Bokuto chirps back happily. Akaashi, on the other hand, says nothing, but he looks away like he'd be caught guilty of finally not being able to keep a straight face.

"Right. So. _Moving on_. You know who's also terrible?" Kuroo laughs. "I'm going to lump Tsukishima in with all of you because the first thing he asked me was what happened to my hair."

"For real?" Bokuto asks, and looks like he's about to high five Tsukishima. He does, in fact, try, but Tsukishima's too slow to follow through and it makes for a very sad high five in the end. It's embarrassing, and awkward. Tsukishima hates it, but he also finds it to be the first thing he truly, one hundred percent gets the context of, and the first time he feels like the tension is eased. Akaashi's no longer watching him, too, instead taking a sip from his glass. 

Tsukishima picks up his own glass of water delicately, swirling the contents around and vaguely observing the ice cubes clink together. He then does the same and takes a sip as well, for lack of anything better to do, but then the next thing that's said nearly makes him choke on the first swallow. 

"It's always been the hair. What, is he not as dashing as he was in his high school days?" Bokuto asks. 

That evidently earns him a kick under the table _—_ even though Tsukishima is more concerned with trying to stay alive through his fit of coughing, he can still see Bokuto wincing from the pain. He's not sure whether the credit should be due to Kuroo or Akaashi, but it's well appreciated, even if he doesn't understand why that was necessary on their part.

"That was totally uncalled for," Bokuto complains, and for the rest of the time, demands to side with Tsukishima, the "only sensible person around."

\------ 

xi.

It's two hours later and Kuroo is away at the cash register to foot the bill when Akaashi hands Tsukishima his phone, open to the contacts lists. "Add yourself," he says. "I'll text you."

"Alright," Tsukishima replies, and even though it only takes several seconds to type in his number, he double-checks and then triple-checks.

He looks up and hands back the phone, only to see that Akaashi's doing that thing of his again, eyes sharp, gaze clear and certain about something Tsukishima is pretty sure isn't there and doesn't exist. And then that feeling is gone again, once Akaashi becomes focused on his phone. Tsukishima gets a text. 

_Unknown [Fri 4:34 p.m.]_

     akaashi

With that, he proceeds to add Akaashi to his own contacts list, and then proceeds to act occupied with that even though he's long finished the task. 

"Bokuto," Akaashi says, somewhat sudden about it. "Kuroo's taking kind of long."

"Is he?" asks Bokuto. "I'll go check?"

He rises up out of the booth seat slowly; Tsukishima can't see what expression is on Bokuto's face, but his tone of voice sounds like he understands it's a ruse. Or not a ruse, exactly, but something more . . . earnest, and whatever it is, Bokuto understands. Doesn't ask questions and leaves Akaashi to it.  

When Tsukishima finally puts his phone away, Bokuto's up at the cash register, saying something to Kuroo and shaking his head. Kuroo laughs back, says something back, and only his laugh is audible, but it's enough to make Tsukishima distracted enough to startle when Akaashi does speak up.

"What are you so scared of?"

"Scared of?" Tsukishima repeats, tasting the words like they're something entirely new, even though in reality they're too painfully familiar. 

" _Are_ you scared?" Akaashi asks, and perhaps he believes rewording his question will work, but. 

"Of what?"

Akaashi looks at him for a moment. It's still unnerving, but this time it's also kind — he looks at Tsukishima with kind eyes, like he's seen this whole thing happen before and knows for sure that everything will turn out well, just like he expected it would. And, generally, Tsukishima trusts Akaashi's judgement, because it's sensible and reasonable and _good_. But it could also be wrong, given that there's always a first for everything.

They stay like that, and it seems like Akaashi's keeping silent because he's waiting for elaboration, a real answer. He would probably keep waiting, if given the chance. Tsukishima sees him glance away, probably to note Kuroo and Bokuto returning to their table.  

"That's good," Akaashi says, and his following words stick to Tsukishima for a while, long after they exchange farewells and leave the nice little cafe. "It means that you care." 

\------

xii.

It takes Kuroo a while to figure out when Tsukishima usually takes his lunch breaks, because there's no one answer that can fit the bill. He doesn't really stick to a certain specific time, only taking break when he finishes his work, or temporarily calls it quits on a project, or gets stuck with something else. His breaks are never at a regular time, and it probably messes with his eating schedule and whatnot. It's certainly not healthy. 

Yamaguchi's protested against this habit of his before, citing reports and statistics and all that nonsense. And never succeeded. Evidently, Kuroo takes it upon himself to complete that mission, and the rants are not nearly half as awful to listen to.  

 ------

xiii.

Yet, sometimes he feels like he's avoiding something that doesn't truly exist.

\------ 

xiv.

February rolls around, and it's not that cold, but Tsukishima takes any excuse he can get to have coffee with him in the morning. The caffeine makes his senses buzz, and he feels jittery up until the point where he crashes and then wallows in the misery of it all. He starts to think that he might be doing this on purpose, even, and enjoys the entire process in a self-deprecating sort of way.

At work, coffee runs become more popular with the addition of Kuroo. He seems to think Tsukishima prefers his coffee sweet — hot, sugary lattes and the like — because whenever he volunteers to go on coffee runs, that's what he gets for Tsukishima. 

It's fine. 

It's not the way Tsukishima's used to taking his coffee, but he thinks he could get used to it someday.

At home, though, he always makes his own, takes it black without a single grain of sugar to lighten the bite. The fragrant smell wisps out of his coffeemaker, out of his mug, permeating the entire kitchen. Weekends are always like this, he thinks.

The bitter taste curls around his tongue as he takes a sip. It's hot — scalding, even — and he winces even as he continues letting it burn his tongue. 

\------ 

xv.

One random day in February, Kuroo stops by Tsukishima's desk, one of his quick thirty-second visits to check up on him. "Don't eat all of them at once," he tells Tsukishima, and then smiles and casually drops a small bag of candy next to his laptop. And then he leaves, and Tsukishima shrugs inwardly to himself, thinking the sweetness of the candy would go well with the bitterness of coffee. He's planning on bringing it home, but that plan fails because of his limited self-restraint.

It's not until he goes through half of the candy that he realizes. It had just seemed like a very _Kuroo_ thing to do, coming by with snacks to keep Tsukishima properly fed even when he's skipping meals.

The entire bag, it's all chocolate Kisses.  

\------ 

xvi.

_Tsukishima [Tues 1:53 p.m.]_

     he gave me kisses

_Akaashi [Tues 2:07 p.m.]_

     congratulations

_Tsukishima [Tues 2:10 p.m.]_

     no wtf i don't mean that kind

_Akaashi [Tues 2:15 p.m.]_

     It's valentine's day, what else did you mean

_Tsukishima [Tues 2:22 p.m.]_

     the candy

_Akaashi [Tues 2:28 p.m.]_

     And . . . what is the problem here?

_Akaashi [Tues 2:29 p.m.]_

     bokuto asks if its that you only got one kind of kisses

_Akaashi [Tues 2:39 p.m.]_

    so what is the verdict

_Tsukishima [Tues 2:45 p.m.]_

     I'm trying to figure out where the nearest vending machine is

     its common practice to have a return offering right??

  _Akaashi [Tues 2:55 p.m.]_

     do vending machines even have kisses

_Tsukishima [Tues 3:07 p.m.]_

     I never said, what the heck

     its TO GET M&M'S 

_Akaashi [Tues 3:08 p.m.]_

     bad idea, but sure. Go for it  

\------ 

xvii.

It's five, and he debates whether he should just leave or get this over with once and for all.

He chooses the latter.

He drops a pack of M&M's on Kuroo's desk.

"This building's too big. It took forever to find a vending machine, so this better be enough," he announces. "We're even."

"Thanks," Kuroo says, and takes the M&M's into his hands, fiddling with it like he's hefting its weight.

"Also," continues Tsukishima. He proceeds to drop the bag of the remaining Kisses onto Kuroo's desk. "What's the meaning of this? Are you trying to be smart?"

Kuroo looks at him, and it's the same look Akaashi had a month ago at the cafe, exactly that one same look, reflected in his eyes. It makes Tsukishima sick — he wants to, to —

Why is nearly everyone ahead of him in this?

"Look, Tsukishima," Kuroo begins. "You're pretty clever yourself. Why don't you tell _me_?"

"What."

A pause. It extends for longer than that, and Tsukishima's thankful he chose closing time to do this, since the office is half empty and generally unpopulated enough for anyone to be paying attention to their conversation.

Kuroo bites his lip in thought, then tells him, "It's really up to you. It can be whatever you want it to be." And then, more quietly, "Nobody wants to push you into anything. Sometimes I don't get if you get it, but."

And another pause.

"I'm complicated," Tsukishima tells him.

"And you have every right to be," Kuroo answers. 

It's not the answer he'd been expecting.

\------

xviii.

On Saturday, instead of brewing his own coffee, he walks to the nearest coffee shop and orders the sweetest thing on the menu. The sugar burns into the back of his throat exactly the same way that something unforgivingly bitter would, except that it's also in a way pleasant and doesn't call for an acquired taste. He stays there for the rest of the day, and then texts Yamaguchi on the way back.

\------ 

xix.

_Tsukishima [Sat 5:04 p.m.]_

 Hershey's kisses. Milk or dark?

_Yamaguchi [Sat 5:06 p.m.]_

     milk?? 

_Tsukishima [Sat 5:10 p.m.]_

     thanks

\------ 

xx.

The next time Yamaguchi comes over, he's not very obvious about it, but Tsukishima's one hundred percent sure he's looking around the apartment and trying to figure out what happened to the Kisses and whether they went down into Tsukishima's stomach. He keeps quiet for a good three hours, to his credit, before he finally can't. 

"You got a lot of candy the other day," he accuses. "You took a picture of it."

"I don't really remember that," Tsukishima says, lying through his teeth and regretting having forgotten how good Yamaguchi's memory is. 

He normally wouldn't shy away from the truth, because it's Yamaguchi and that's really not necessary. But he really doesn't want to be asked what the candy was for, in case he decides to just throw it away. 

Yamaguchi seems to sense that something's slightly off, but he doesn't say anything, and Tsukishima promises to himself that he'll let Yamaguchi know if he does decide to follow through with a probably very bad idea.

\------

xxi.

The weight is printed on the bag. Fifty-six ounces, flat, of pure chocolate. He lugs it onto Kuroo's desk on Monday without much fanfare.

"This is fifty-six ounces," he informs Kuroo. "Convert that, and it's three and a half pounds."

He's caught Kuroo by surprise; he finds that he quite likes being ahead of the game, for once.

"Three and a half pounds is a lot," Tsukishima continues, and he recalls exactly how he was planning on saying it earlier. "Of Kisses. More than you gave me. So we're not even, and you owe me, like, a bunch of these."

Several seconds go by, and Tsukishima counts how many it takes before Kuroo figures it out. It's four, but feels like much longer.

"Wait," Kuroo starts, laughing. "I haven't even eaten the pack of M&M's yet."

"Well, those don't matter anymore," Tsukishima replies, and he hopes he's not flushing as hard as he feels like he is. "Kisses for kisses, got it?"

Kuroo takes the bag, heaves it onto the space right next to his file dividers. "I think I get it," he says, smiling, and Tsukishima realizes it's probably the first time he's paying Kuroo a visit and not the other way around.

\------ 

xxii.

And the next time Kuroo catches him on a lunch break, it's the other kind of kisses that Tsukishima gets. Shadowy corner, soft and quick.

He's not sure how many ounces of chocolate one of these is equivalent to, but they burn sweet on his tongue nonetheless, and he decides it's definitely not an acquired taste after all.

**Author's Note:**

> btw Kuroo never eats that bag of M&M's, he's sentimental af like what a dork


End file.
